


visit when you please

by onetrueobligation



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Separation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetrueobligation/pseuds/onetrueobligation
Summary: When Whizzer finds himself cast out of Marvin's home, there's only one person left sympathetic enough to his situation to grant him a place to stay -- whether she likes it or not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey my dudes! this is my first contribution to this fandom and you have no idea how terrified i am about it. when i first saw 'making a home', i thought whizzer was going to end up being taken in by trina's family, and i was surprised when he wasn't. so i thought i'd write it myself!

For one brief moment, Whizzer thought Marvin was joking.

The look on Marvin’s face removed any chance of that. Marvin didn’t want him. Which was fine – hell, it was _expected._ The two of them couldn’t agree on fashion choices, let alone how to carry out a real-life relationship. Whizzer had watched this crash and burn, and it was only a matter of time before they reached this conclusion.

No, it wasn’t the fact that it was all coming to an end.

It was the fact that Marvin had the audacity, the heartlessness, to turn Whizzer out of his home.

After everything Whizzer had done. Cooked, cleaned, kept everything in order – taken on the role of Marvin’s perfect little housewife, despite his own reluctance. This had become his home as much as it was Marvin’s. And now, and _now,_ Marvin was sending him away.

Maybe Whizzer should have protested. Maybe he should have begged. But at that moment, all Whizzer’s thoughts had been clouded over with a new sort of rage, unlike his usual simple exasperation with his lover. This was something different, something hateful. A _loathing,_ at the fact that Marvin thought he had the right to kick Whizzer out. At the fact that Marvin neither knew nor cared whether or not Whizzer had somewhere to go.

And so he snatched up his bags and stormed out of the apartment, still putting his arms in his jacket sleeves.

He was a five minutes’ walk away from the apartment before he realised he had absolutely nowhere to go.

He had about enough money on him to get him a couple of nights at a cheap motel, at the most – that was his first problem. Marvin had sworn to provide for Whizzer, and Whizzer had believed him. Even when he’d realised how close they were to parting ways, he’d always assumed Marvin would be courteous enough to help him out financially. But no, he thought with gritted teeth. Whizzer would _not_ settle for begging Marvin to help him out, to take him back. He was _not_ the one in the wrong here. He was a grown man, dammit! He shouldn’t have to rely on someone as unstable as _Marvin_ for help.

But then, he thought miserably, where _was_ he supposed to go?

Briefly, the thought of his parents flickered in his mind. The idea was laughable. Neither of them wanted him, that much was clear. He hadn’t spoken to them for the better half of five years, and he was certain they wanted things to stay that way as much as he did. He didn’t even know where they lived these days, much less whether they cared enough to want to see him.

So where? As he walked rather aimlessly through the streets and the sun began to set, a feeling of hopelessness began to wash over him. Where was he supposed to go? Where _could_ he go?

And then, another thought occurred to him.

But no – it was ridiculous! The last thing they wanted was _Whizzer_ to intrude on their quiet, picturesque family life, right?

But on the other hand, what choice did he have? Homelessness? Sure, they didn’t _like_ him, but they weren’t heartless, were they?

At the very least, it was worth a try. Social etiquette be damned, he _needed_ somewhere to stay, no matter how reluctantly his hosts took him in.

 

Trina had been most welcoming of guests when they’d first moved in. She’d _desired_ them, half-begged her friends to visit more often. And so when the doorbell rang that evening, she practically leapt up from the sofa and flung open the door enthusiastically, a bright smile plastered upon her face.

Her enthusiasm died quickly.

‘What are _you_ doing here?’ she hissed.

Whizzer looked like hell, she realised quickly. The swaggering confidence she’d grown to loathe was entirely gone, replaced with a timid shyness that didn’t suit him at all. He looked as though someone had punched him in the gut, and refused to meet her eyes. His expression of utter hopelessness reminded her of someone, although she couldn’t say who. And – was that a suitcase?

‘Tri—Mrs Weisenbachfeld, believe me, I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t absolutely have to,’ he began.

Trina suddenly realised who Whizzer reminded her of. His miserable expression, his slumping shoulders, his usual radiance gone – he reminded her of herself, the day Marvin told her he didn’t love her.

‘It’s Marvin, isn’t it?’ she asked softly.

Whizzer blinked before nodding abashedly. ‘I know… I know I’m probably the last person in the world you want to see on your doorstep, but… I had nowhere else to go. You were my last hope.’

The old Trina would have turned him away. The old Trina would have clung to the grudge she held against the man who’d taken her husband, but – seeing herself reflected in Whizzer’s eyes moved her in a way she couldn’t explain.

She’d recovered. She’d moved on. She had Mendel, and he loved her, and she’d changed. And no one deserved to suffer the same way she had.

She stepped away from the door. ‘Come in.’

Whizzer stared at her in disbelief, as though surprised she hadn’t taken more convincing. Gratefully, he stepped inside, placing his bags down in the hall. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Mrs--’

‘Trina,’ she corrected quickly. ‘And you don’t have to thank me. You wouldn’t expect me to leave you out on the street, would you?’

The look on Whizzer’s face suggested he’d been expecting her to do just that.

She sighed. ‘You’re… you’re the only person who knows Marvin like I do. And… I guess in that way, we have something in common. After he left me… I would have given anything to have a shoulder to cry on. And so… that’s what this is.’

Whizzer shook his head. ‘Trina, you must hate me,’ he insisted. ‘First I take your husband, and then I show up on your doorstep asking for a place to stay – I don’t deserve this, I really don’t.’

Trina opened her mouth to say something more, but at that moment, she was interrupted by a voice calling out from the dining table. ‘Mom, who is it?’ This was followed by the pattering of feet, and a moment later, Jason appeared in the hallway.

‘Oh, hey, Whizzer,’ he said casually, and then looked around him, as though searching for someone else. ‘Where’s my dad?’

Whizzer scrambled for something to say, but Trina beat him to it. ‘Jason, darling, your father isn’t here right now. Whizzer here will be staying with us for a while. Can you bring Mendel here for me?’

Rather than returning to the dining room, Jason simply threw back his head and yelled, ‘ _Mendel!_ ’ loudly enough to alarm the whole street.

Mendel wandered into the hall. ‘Jeez, kid, what--’ He stopped when he saw Whizzer, and did a double take when he saw the suitcase. ‘Whizzer,’ he said slowly, apparently still taking everything in. After a moment, common courtesy caught up with him and he extended his hand. ‘Nice to see you here. Is Marvin…?’

‘Marvin’s not joining us,’ Trina said in a clipped tone, as Whizzer shook Mendel’s hand with rapturous gratitude at the kindness he was being shown. He barely knew the psychiatrist, but Whizzer was fairly sure Marvin had told Mendel enough about him for Mendel to paint a fairly accurate picture of Whizzer’s personality.

‘So, you’re… staying here?’ Mendel asked, attempting casualness while shooting a not-so-discreet questioning glance at Trina.

‘I-If that’s all right,’ Whizzer said nervously, looking from Mendel to Trina to Mendel again.

‘Of course he’s staying,’ Jason said matter-of-factly, glancing up at Whizzer. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Yes, he is,’ Trina confirmed. ‘Jason, go finish your dinner, and then I want you straight to bed. We have things to discuss. _Alone._ ’

Jason rolled his eyes but turned on his heel and headed off back toward the dining room. All three adults privately sighed in relief.

‘Whizzer – did Marvin kick you out?’ Mendel asked curiously.

‘Mendel,’ Trina snapped in a warning tone before Whizzer could answer, as though Mendel had said something socially abhorrent.

‘It’s fine,’ Whizzer assured her, although Mendel’s words did strangely cut deeper than they should have. ‘Yes, we- we had a falling out. Although… we’d been falling out for months. I guess this was just the last straw for both of us.’

Mendel nodded sympathetically. ‘Well, we’re glad to have you. You can stay as long as you like.’

‘Agreed,’ Trina said. ‘And you must be tired after the day you’ve had. Why don’t you let Mendel show you up to the guest room? You can make yourself at home.’

It was evident that Trina was trying to get Whizzer out of the way so she could speak to her husband alone, and although it was still early and Whizzer wasn’t particularly feeling tired at all, he was grateful for the opportunity to have some peace and quiet after a dreadful evening. ‘Of course,’ he said, lifting his bags. He looked to Mendel, who gave him something between a smile and a grimace before leading him out of the hall and to a small but comfortable-looking guest room.

‘I guess this is where you’ll be staying,’ Mendel said unceremoniously, gesturing around. ‘Like Trina said – make yourself at home.’

Whizzer stepped inside and placed his bags down beside the bed with a contented sigh. ‘Thank you. I really am… so, so grateful.’

‘Not a problem,’ Mendel said nonchalantly. ‘And, hey – I know that the husband of your lover’s ex-wife is probably the last person you’d go to for a heart-to-heart, but if you ever need someone to talk to…’ He shrugged. ‘Well, I am a psychiatrist.’ With that, he left Whizzer alone, shutting the door beside him.

Whizzer, overwhelmed with the kindness shown by these people he barely knew and who had never shown the slightest desire to know _him,_ found himself almost on the verge of tears. What with losing Marvin – Marvin who, despite his better judgement, Whizzer still found himself caring about more than ever – and somehow finding refuge with Marvin’s ex-wife’s family, of all people, he almost couldn’t bear the emotions flooding through him. And so he did the only thing he could – he slept. And _maybe_ cried too. Just a little.

 

‘What are we gonna do?’ Mendel asked, sitting on the sofa with one hand clutching a can of lukewarm cola that didn’t fit in too well with the pretentious theme they’d been trying to uphold in the house.

Trina snatched the can out of his hands. ‘We’re going to treat him like we’d treat any guest.’

‘And like all guests, his stay has an expiration date!’ Mendel retorted, reaching out for his cola before giving up and slumping into the sofa cushions. ‘Listen, Trina, I like the guy, and I’m happy to have him, but we can’t put him up here forever. He wouldn’t want us to do that any more than we would.’

She sighed, sitting down beside him. ‘I know. And we’ll find somewhere else for him eventually. But no one deserves to have to deal with Marvin alone. Not even Whizzer.’

 

Whizzer wandered out of his room and into the kitchen the next morning, wondering if the family had anything to eat. He was starved, he realised with some surprise. Just as he was making his way down the hall, he stopped, alerted by the sound of Trina speaking with someone in a hushed voice, and from the sound of it, on a phone. As he approached, quietly as possible, he managed to pick up parts of the conversation.

‘No, just—don’t raise your voice at me, just tell me what happened between you!’ A pause. ‘Well, what am I supposed to do with him? I’m not his mother, I can’t keep him here forever. He’s your responsibility!’

Whizzer stepped into the kitchen, where Mendel and Jason were already seated and eating their breakfast, and gave Trina an apologetic smile. Trina paused. ‘I’ll call you back,’ she snapped into the receiver, before placing the phone back in its cradle and turning back to Whizzer. ‘Did you sleep well?’ she asked, her vexed tone gone and replaced with slightly over-the-top sweetness.

Whizzer nodded. ‘Yeah. Was… was that Marvin?’

Trina and Mendel exchanged a glance. ‘Yes,’ Trina said finally. ‘Nothing you need to worry about. Now – breakfast?’

It was clear that Trina wasn’t going to discuss Marvin any further, and Whizzer didn’t want to press the point. Besides, it wasn’t like he cared about Marvin, was it? Marvin was just another guy, and Whizzer had had more of those than he could count. He’d rather Trina threw him out on the street than sent him back to Marvin’s.

Although, he really couldn’t stop thinking of Marvin. His mind wandered uncontrollably to Marvin all throughout breakfast – what was he doing right now? Was he thinking of Whizzer, or had he already forgotten all about him?

This was normal, he assured himself. Of course his thoughts were drifting to Marvin – after all, they’d been together for nine whole months, hadn’t they? (He forced himself not to think of how Marvin, if he’d heard Whizzer thinking such things, would have teasingly corrected him and told him _we’ve been together for_ ten _months._ ) Surely he was allowed to feel a little down after the end of such a long relationship.

But Whizzer had gone through breakups before. And, deep down, he knew that what he was feeling wasn’t grief at all. He missed Marvin himself, and wanted him back. And worst of all was that he knew he would still be unhappy, whether he went back to Marvin or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey! so i just realised some of the timeline might be a little wobbly bc i mentioned that marvin and whizzer had been together for ~9 months although this probably takes place a little later than that. apart from that, hope y'all are enjoying the fic so far, and thanks so, so much for all the comments and kudos i've received so far. 
> 
> also, trigger warning maybe? there's some brief mentions of homophobia in here, nothing particularly heavy or anything.

Cordelia arrived at Marvin’s door wearing her usual apron and cheery smile. In her hands sat a tray of a recipe of her own making that she had yet to name. She rang the doorbell and waited for Whizzer to answer as he usually did.

It was Marvin, in fact, who answered, and she nearly dropped the tray in shock. He was a _mess._ It was past noon, and he looked like he’d just woken up. His hair was all over the place, his eyes were rimmed with purple rings, and he was wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants.

‘M-Marvin?’ Cordelia asked, wondering briefly if she’d accidentally shown up at the wrong house and this wasn’t actually Marvin at all.

‘Hey. Uh – come in, come in,’ Marvin said tiredly, stepping aside and showing her in as though completely unaware of his dishevelled appearance.

She wandered inside, the look of concern not leaving her face for a moment, and placed the tray down on a nearby table, one hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised in suspicion. Something was definitely not right here.

‘Geez, Marv, have you even had breakfast?’

‘No,’ Marvin admitted dully.

Cordelia shook her head. That was _definitely_ not like Marvin. Since when did Marvin not eat breakfast? She took a deep breath and tried again.

‘Where’s--’

‘Whizzer’s not here, Delia,’ Marvin said with a tired sigh, answering her question before she could even get the words out. ‘We separated. He’s gone.’

‘ _Separated?_ ’ Cordelia repeated, as though she couldn’t quite believe it. ‘Are you sure? This isn’t just another temper tantrum, is it?’

‘I’m pretty damn sure he’s not coming back,’ Marvin snapped irritably, and regretted it the moment he saw the wounded look on Cordelia’s face. ‘Christ—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--’

‘Forget it,’ Cordelia said quietly, her voice wavering. She’d brought the food for Whizzer specifically. Whizzer was always the one who sat there and ate and enjoyed it, while Marvin was the one she’d caught more than once spitting it out into a napkin. Whizzer was the one who kept the house in order, that much was clear – without him, the place already looked messier, not to mention Marvin himself looking like he’d just crawled out of a dustbin. ‘I—I should go.’

She turned to leave. ‘Delia, wait--’ Marvin began, reaching out to grab her wrist. She gave a little cry of shock and turned to face him, piercing eyes wide and frightened, scanning his face for an explanation as she yanked her hand away.

‘Whizzer left because he wanted to,’ he assured her, his voice soft. ‘We decided we were both better off without each other. I didn’t force him out, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

Cordelia blinked at him and gave a soft, humourless laugh, gesturing to Marvin’s full appearance with one hand. ‘Is _this_ what you call ‘better off without him’?’

Marvin, too shocked to respond, simply stared at her, and Cordelia turned on her heel with a satisfied smirk and left through the front door, the tray of food still on the table.

 

With Jason at school, Mendel at work, and Trina out shopping for most of the day, Whizzer was left in the house alone.

On the one hand, he had to admire their trust in him not to burn the place down while they were gone. All he had left for company was the miserable old dog outside, who spent most of the day whining loudly enough to be heard through the entire street, and felt a stab of empathy for the poor animal’s loneliness.

After the house was completely empty, he decided he might as well make himself useful. Mendel had told him cheerily that he was free to live there as though it were his own home – help himself to anything in the fridge, watch TV, take a shower – whatever he felt up to. Once again moved by the kindness shown to him, Whizzer concluded he could just accept the family’s generosity without making up for it somehow.

 

Mendel was first to arrive home, as Trina had gone directly from collecting groceries to picking up Jason from his after-school chess club. The sun had already set and the city was lit underneath a deep indigo sky, which Mendel noted absent-mindedly before becoming aware of the distinct scent of a home-cooked roast wafting from his own house. Trina couldn’t possibly be home yet, could she? With curiosity, he pushed open the door and audibly gasped.

The interior of the house was almost _gleaming._ The place had already been kept relatively clean, but not like this. It was as though someone had come along and cast the entire house in a shiny coating of polish. He glanced at a nearby tabletop in the hall and was met with his own reflection staring back at him, clear as day.

‘Wh-Whizzer?’ Mendel called through the house, finding his voice at last. This was almost too good to be true.

From the kitchen, Whizzer poked out his head. ‘Oh, hi, Dr Weisenbachfeld,’ he said, mustering up a bright smile. ‘I hope you don’t mind – I took the liberty of tidying things up a bit. Dinner’s almost ready.’

‘Tidying things up a bit’ was certainly an understatement, Mendel thought, still glancing around in shock. He was too distracted to correct Whizzer to ‘Mendel’ rather than ‘Dr Weisenbachfeld’, a title which made him uncomfortable more than anything.

‘You- you did all this?’ he spluttered, wandering into the kitchen, which was, as expected, equally as spotless as the rest of the house. ‘ _Shit,_ Whizzer – your name doesn’t happen to be Snow White, does it?’

Whizzer laughed, a genuine laugh, which surprised them both. ‘Just Whizzer Brown. Not that that’s any more believable a name.’

‘Hah.’ Mendel’s laugh came out distracted. ‘Whizzer – you didn’t have to do this. Really. You don’t need to feel like you owe us something. You’re here as a guest.’

Whizzer chose to let Mendel believe that he’d cleaned the place out of a sense of obligation, but the truth was, it was more than that. He’d cleaned it out of _habit,_ scrounged the cupboards for anything that would make a decent dinner out of _habit._ Sitting still all day was simply something he couldn’t muster up the will to do. Almost a year of living with Marvin had taught him that cooking and cleaning was an expectation of him, and now he couldn’t help himself.

‘Well,’ he said, with another forced smile, ‘it’s too late to do anything about it now. Sit down – will Trina and Jason be here soon?’

‘Uh—yeah! Yeah, she should be bringing Jason home from chess club any minute now.’ Mendel removed his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair, sitting down shakily. His traitorous stomach growled loudly at the scent of Whizzer’s cooking.

‘Chess club, huh?’ Whizzer repeated conversationally, back turned as he attended to the food on the stove. ‘Does he like it there?’

‘No,’ Mendel said with a small laugh. ‘Prefers to play chess on his own, the poor kid. I don’t know what to do with him sometimes, I really don’t. Trina always asks me to help him, but…’ He trailed off. Hadn’t he already said too much? He hardly knew Whizzer, anyway – why was he sharing so much with him?

Except he _did_ know Whizzer. Perhaps not personally, but throughout all his sessions with Marvin – _Is he special? He’s delightful. And romantic? Yes, and spiteful_ – and with Trina – _I want to hate him, but I really can’t_ – and even Jason – _he and Whizzer live like—well, I think it’s clear_ – he’d somehow painted a picture of the man he’d come to know as Whizzer Brown, without really meeting him once. It was crazy, how familiar he felt with the man he was connected to in such a strange way. It wasn’t often a man ended up being cooked dinner by his wife’s ex-husband’s ex-lover.

‘What about at school?’ Whizzer questioned, interrupting Mendel’s thoughts. ‘Does he do well at school?’

‘He… he tries,’ Mendel admitted, an apologetic tone to his voice. ‘It’s not easy for him. Well, except maths. He’s a genius at that. I think he’d been great at everything he does, if he’d only apply himself, but the other kids – he says they tease him. Make fun of him for… Well. His father. And the rest of us, too. We’re not exactly an orthodox family, are we?’

Something melted a little inside of Whizzer at Mendel’s words – we’re _not exactly an orthodox family_ – as though he considered Whizzer to be as much a part of his family as Trina and Jason. If he hadn’t already been overwhelmed by gratitude, he thought he might burst into tears right there in that very spot.

‘That’s awful,’ Whizzer said quietly. Oh, he hadn’t been free of taunts when he was in school. Quite the opposite. He could still vividly see the slurs scattered across his locker, could still remember the first boy he’d kissed in middle school and how the next day no one would talk to him and the same boy looked at him with a strange mix of want and hatred. He could still feel the splatter of mud against his cheek, sometimes, when he really thought about it – his face burning at the humiliation of it, the anger and spite at the boys who laughed, and the feeling of betrayal when he saw the boy he’d kissed, laughing along with the others, and –

He grounded himself. He wasn’t a schoolboy anymore, and this was Jason they were talking about, not Whizzer. Self-pity never did anyone any good.

‘Isn’t there anything the school can do?’ Whizzer asked, not bothering to keep the concern out of his voice. ‘They can’t just let the kids treat him like that.’

‘Jason won’t let us talk to the staff,’ Mendel said with a defeated shrug. ‘Believe me, we’ve tried. He says he’d rather deal with the other kids than talk with the teachers.’

‘Christ. That can’t be right.’ Whizzer shook his head in disbelief. Why would Jason let the other kids push him around like that? When _he_ was a kid, he would have done anything to have an adult intervene, but of course he couldn’t tell a soul about what he was being bullied for in the first place—

 _Not about you,_ he reminded himself.

He was saved trying to solve Jason’s dilemma by the sound of keys in the front door. ‘Mendel?’ Trina’s voice called from the hall. ‘Mendel, are you _cooking?_ ’ Her tone was one of concern more than anything. Mendel counted down from three on his fingers with a knowing glance at Whizzer, mouthing a countdown. _Three… two… one…_

There was the sound of a large number of grocery bags being dropped on a hardwood floor.

‘Oh, my _God,_ ’ Trina breathed, and even from the kitchen, Mendel could tell she was examining the newly cleaned household in amazement. With a pattering of feet, Jason appeared in the kitchen.

‘Whizzer!’ he cried, wrapping his arms around Whizzer’s waist before he could react to such a display of affection.

‘Hey, bud,’ Whizzer said with a surprised grin, ruffling Jason’s hair and gently trying to ease his grip; the kid didn’t budge. ‘You hungry?’

‘Of _course,_ ’ Jason said, as though it were the stupidest question in the world. He dropped his schoolbag on the floor and pulled out a chair, sitting down beside Mendel. ‘Chess-playing makes you hungry. Haven’t you ever played?’

Whizzer winced and turned back to the stove. ‘Once,’ he said, deciding not to go into any further detail. That game was _not_ something he wanted to recall any time soon.

A few moments later, Trina appeared in the kitchen, her hands clutching an impossible number of shopping bags. ‘ _Whizzer,_ ’ she gasped out. ‘I barely recognised the place!’

Whizzer gave a nervous chuckle and lifted a few of the bags out of her hands and onto the counter before her arms fell off, which, judging by the weight and number of them, seemed to be a likely occurrence. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Mrs—Trina,’ he corrected himself quickly. ‘I didn’t want to seem like I was intruding, so I helped out a little.’

‘More than a little,’ Trina said breathlessly, looking at him with such appreciation that Whizzer might have blushed.

He turned back to the stove, and Trina turned to Mendel, pointing at Whizzer’s turned back and mouthing _wow!_ Eyebrows raised, Mendel nodded back. _I know._

It was only a few minutes later before dinner was served, four large and mouth-watering meals cooked solely from the leftovers lying around the cupboards. Trina took a bite and closed her eyes, savouring the taste.

‘My God, Whizzer, this is incredible,’ Mendel said, eagerly digging into his dinner.

Whizzer stared at his own plate humbly. ‘It’s just what I do,’ he said in a small voice, shoulders hunched.

If the others noticed his awkwardness, they certainly didn’t say so. ‘You have to cook here more often, Whizzer!’ Jason said insistently, inhaling nearly half the meal in under a minute. He turned to his mother. ‘You could take tips from him, Mom!’

Trina slapped his arm lightly and told him to be quiet and eat his dinner while Mendel stifled a laugh and Whizzer beamed with pride.

 

Later that night, after Jason had already been sent to bed and Whizzer had retired, exhausted after cleaning the place with such enthusiasm, Trina called Marvin back.

Mendel watched TV with the distant sounds of Trina squabbling with Marvin on the phone in the other room, smiling to himself. Their family was hardly a functional one, but he thought he could grow to like it.

Half an hour later, Trina shuffled into the living room and fell down beside him on the sofa with an exhausted sigh.

‘Well?’ Mendel asked, not taking his eyes from the screen.

‘Well,’ Trina repeated distantly. ‘I spoke to Marvin.’

‘Mm. I gathered that. And?’

‘And he’s coming to visit tomorrow. Just – don’t tell Whizzer. I don’t want him to think we’re going behind his back.’

Mendel tore his gaze away from the TV and stared at her. ‘But you _are_ going behind his back. You know that, right?’

‘Of course I know that,’ she said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. ‘But it’s for his own good. You were the one who wanted to get rid of him, remember?’

‘Well,’ Mendel shrugged, ‘that was _before_ I tasted his cooking.’

 

Half-way down the stairs, on his way to grab a glass of water for himself before he went to sleep, Whizzer picked up every word, changed his mind, and locked himself back in his room.                    

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a sucker for positive feedback guys! (wink wink, nudge nudge)


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